As though the Bush administration heard me wonder aloud, "What ever happened with that Valerie Plame thing?" -- it seems like the kitchen was a titch too hot for Herr Ashcroft. Yesterday he finallyrecused himself from the investigation, after taking his sweet time. I dream every night of Karl Rove in jail, although Mr. Pink speculated last night over delicious tacos that brave patriot Karl will probably eat the barrel of a gun before surrendering to the Big House. Either way, I say!

And: all morning? OutKast songs rattling around in my head, like someone left the radio on. I fucking swear, I just need to dance!

Oh and, again: the year in television, a year-end round up that I can give my full love to, at last!

Hot and Not lists coming later, if I have time. If not, I say, pre-emptively, happy new year!

December 30, 2003

Holy mother of God, I cannot believe no one, like, paged me -- if I had a pager, I mean -- to tell me that the Upright Citizens Brigade first season dvd was out! Oh man, I am staying up all night and watching this bad mamajama! See ya later, suckers!

2) Mad cow liked that Eddie Murphy movie so much that it thought it would try coming to America too! I felt briefly vindicated about my stance on red meat, and hoped that perhaps people would stop calling me a killjoy, but then realized that no one cares if it means one can't eat a Whopper anymore. Well, don't come crying to me when your brains dissolve, people!

3) Gregg Williams lost his job, one of three NFL coaches to do so, and the one I feel deserves it the least. (And keeping Dave Wannstedt? Stupid!)

Of course, I can't really think of anything flippant and dismissive to say about this whole air marshalls being required thing, as it seems just like something scary might happen, and I'm not yet rested enough for good gallows humor.

December 29, 2003

Gosh, I go away for a few days and some psycho hawking diet pills and Viagra storms the comment section. Die! I have plenty of sex and a smokin' bod, and I am sure all you readers do too, so stay away bad advertiser person! I ban thee!

So I'm home. And I missed you all oodles. I missed especially saying happy birthday to Alison, Brett and Kelly, so I suck.

Christmas was rad and I am super sad to be back here, but I am so totally buying a Mega Millions ticket tomorrow because I think that would be a great way for God to reward me for being so patient these past few years and not even killing anyone out of sheer frustration. Of course, I have never actually purchased a lottery ticket before, so I am not really sure how to do it. Like, will the machine just give you a number automatically or do I have to make one up myself?

Santa brought me some cool stuff, like the much-desired Knitting Without Tears and myriad pink clothing items, along with piles of other stuff, so color me spoiled. Oh, and my mom gave me a bunch of vintage knitting books from my socialite-type grandmother on our way out of town, and holy shit! I am so excited about that!

Although, can I make a request? No more people giving me bottles of Arbor Mist. Do I look like I can be fooled by a frosted bottle of what is quite obviously Boone's Farms? We keep regifting it to low-level acquaintances to get it out of the house, but yet another seems to come in within the hour like some karmic boomerang. Mr. Pink declares, "Arbor Mist is the fruitcake of the 21st century!"

Seeing everyone, of course, was the best gift of all. (Well, the Steelers winning probably would have been the best-best gift of all, but I was shit out of luck there, eh?) We had a wonderful time with my gorgeous, brilliant, funny friends, particularly at Mark's bar on Saturday night. (That boy is a good dj, kids! No wonder I used to sleep with him, har har!) And my parents continue to rock on, and I am so lucky to have such awesome ones. I miss you all already so much more than I can say, and I really hope that we will be back there before long.

Oh, and hey, this: when we were out in the Southside, obviously when we saw the neon sign outside a bar declaring "Midget Inside!," we had to go in. But kind of disappointing! I expected more!

Speaking of expecting more? We saw "Cold Mountain" and eep! Jude Law's bare ass and the presence of Jack White are not enough to save this one!

December 23, 2003

I will try and check in one more time before I leave, but just in case I don't...

My parents don't have a computer at home. They also still have rotary service on their home phone. My dad found out that they charge some tiny, nominal fee for touch tone service, and he'll be damned if he is paying for that shit. I know, I know. So it will be radio silence here until Monday, unless I am over at someone else's house and am hideously bored by them and thus check the email/weblog.

Oh man, going away always gives me such panic because I (dorkily) worry about the cats. We have some friends from next door taking care of them who have a youngish son, though, and he really loves cats, so it should be okay. Plus, they can, like, look across the way and see everything in the apartment, AND the dad in the family is a writer and works from home, so every movement in our place will be probably noted. But still!

When we talked to the kid last night about helping his dad with taking care of the cats, he said, "Well, I think I will help out mostly by petting and loving them. I don't have much experience with cleaning the litterbox..." [he wrinkles his nose delicately] "...and I think that is something you really need to have some kind of experience to do." Hee! That is the same excuse I have been using for the last five years, kid!

I plan to have an end-of-year wrap up upon my return, just like an Actual Media Outlet (which, I should be clear, I am not). Glamorous! And I am sure I will take notes about all the things that piss me off between now and then. I think I did that even before I had a weblog, which is surely some sign of psychosis.

So byeeeee, have a great holiday, I love you all! And some of you I will see, hurrah, Pittsburgh punks! Kiss!

December 22, 2003

Putting off packing? I don't know what you mean.

Now, I was watching the Jets-Patriots game, or parts of it, but I most certainly did not see Joe Namath sexually harassing Suzy Kolber! My! I am moderately shocked, I guess, sort of. I guess it is also possible that he is on the crack cocaine, given the total weirdness of it all.

First: This Saturday night, word on the street is that we will be at Jeckyl & Hyde on the Southside to dancedancerevolution to the song-stylings of this ultra-hott dj person (and I don't know him at all, swear!). Come on, Pittsburgh people, and put on your, your, your, your boogie shoes! Your boogie shoes! (God, I love that song.) Uhm, well, I think there will be dancing, at least, and probably that dancing will not actually include me as Mr. Pink is rather averse to dancing in general, and he would probably just make fun of my inept ass-shaking with my friends. But I will be drinking! Drinking I can do! I think. Unless I have to drive. Oh fuck it, we aren't fun anyway, never mind.

Second: Aren't you so sad for Martha? "The saddest holiday EVER!" Kind of the awesomest quote ever, don't you think?